


The Exile

by 13th_blackbird



Series: Winterverse [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Angst, Chiss Politics, Diplomacy, Eli Vanto: stone cold badass, Established Relationship, Feels, Fix-It, M/M, New Republic Politics, Not Rebels Finale Compliant, Post-Canon, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Rescue Mission, Slow Burn, many special guest stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-03-26 05:31:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13851111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13th_blackbird/pseuds/13th_blackbird
Summary: The thrilling conclusion to the Winterverse series, post-ROTJ.After the Rebel victory in the Galactic Civil War, all Imperial officers are designated war criminals, including a certain Grand Admiral of some renown. When news of the Empire's collapse (and Thrawn's imprisonment) reaches the Chiss Ascendancy, decisions need to be made, and fast...--[message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]/ a friend requests your status //





	1. A Series of Messages

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my betas, @tristesses (who shares approximately, um, all of my head canons and favorite tropes) and @QueerGem (who doesn't even go here but still ships it), for their support, suggestions, and mutual squeeing.
> 
> SW canon is tricky these days (but when hasn't it been?). I'm following the new official EU timeline, post-ROTJ, as best as I can puzzle it out. Concepts about the Chiss are either taken from the old EU or straight-up fabricated by me. So, you know, don't report me to the story group or anything.
> 
> You might want to read the other works in this series before this one, as there are references to them throughout, but I'm not the boss of you.
> 
> Come talk to me on Tumblr @coldhillside; I would love it!

 

 

**A series of messages exchanged between 2BBY and 7ABY, Galactic Standard, recorded at a relay beacon at coordinates 62t408r25/e235n/352l, edge of Unknown Space.**

 

 

 

\----BEGIN TRANSCRIPT----

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ Fleet moved to Lothal. Analysis of Imperial strategy against small-scale insurgency follows.

//

>>

>>

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ Insurgency growing in strength and influence. Notes attached.

//

>>

>>

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ Imperial stronghold on Lothal destroyed. Civil war imminent. Stability at critical period. Fleet to move to Scarif. Objective unknown.

//

>>

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ Battle of Scarif analysis follows. Imperial situation precarious. Insurgency united, gaining central leadership. Imperial superweapon operational. Notes on superweapon attached.

//

>>

[transmission tunnel created//channel.secondary key 903A7/]

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ a friend requests your status //

>>

>>

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ Superweapon used on Imperial populated world. Notes on this development attached.

//

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ a friend requests your status //

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ Battle of Yavin analysis attached. Superweapon destroyed. Political stability continues to falter.

//

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin imperial space//destination ascendancy]

/ general political and military status report attached //

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ i meant personal status. notes on current events on csilla attached. //

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin imperial space//destination ascendancy]

/ this relay is for mission reports //

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ this is a secure channel for personal reports. you know it's me. status of oath: intact. recently accepted a promotion to captain in the CEDF but would prefer previous position - admiral's aide. //

>>

>>

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin imperial space//destination ascendancy]

/ i did know it was you. congratulations on promotion. far better than previous position. status of oath: intact. //

>>

>>

>>

>>

>>

>>

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin imperial space//destination ascendancy]

/ a friend requests your status//

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN ASCENDANCY//DESTINATION IMPERIAL SPACE] //UNABLE TO ACCESS LAST TRANSMISSION PLEASE RESUBMIT//

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ Overall current political and military status update attached.

//

>>

>>

>>

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ Victory at Hoth, report attached. Situation stabilizing.

//

>>

>>

>>

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ my personal status: improving. sorry for delay. oath: intact. //

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin imperial space//destination ascendancy]

/ previous status unsatisfactory? please advise immediately. oath: intact.//

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ previous status unimportant. current status optimal. i’m fine. you? oath intact. //

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin imperial space//destination ascendancy]

/ current status unimportant. oath intact. //

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ your current status is important to me. be careful. oath intact. //

>>

>>

>>

>>

>>

>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ Second superweapon under construction. Analysis of this development attached. Stability nominal.

//

>>

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ official analysis of most recent development was sarcastic even for you. personal analysis of development requested. offered merit adoption, joined clan kres’. personal status: curious about friend’s status.//

>>

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin imperial space//destination ascendancy]

/ personal analysis of second superweapon, in a word, idiotic. congratulations on merit adoption. not my clan? you have left CEDF? my personal status: unremarkable. oath intact.//

>>

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ no, of course different clan. cannot partner with someone in same clan. honorable discharge CEDF, long story. personal status: complicated. oath intact but under siege. clan obligations.//

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin imperial space//destination ascendancy]

/ do your duty to your clan. oath unimportant. cannot partner with someone light-years away. //

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ i know what i have to do. don’t give me orders. distance unimportant. //

>>

>>

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ siege won. oath intact.//

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin imperial space//destination ascendancy]

/ oath intact here as well. thank you. //

>>

>>

>>

>>

>>

>>

>>

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ Notes on battle of Endor and destruction of second superweapon attached. Civil war essentially lost. Fall of Empire expected. Analysis of situation to follow.

//

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ a friend requests your personal status, given last official transmission //

>>

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ Further analysis of Imperial efforts following critical defeat at Endor.

//

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ your personal status? i’m worried. what’s going on? oath intact //

>>

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ Further analysis of evolving political and military situation. Notes on Battle of Jakku attached. Situation declining rapidly.

//

>>

>>

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ Further analysis of evolving political and military situation. Surrender under discussion. Forthcoming: after action reports for future reference.

//

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ personal status? please answer. oath intact, as always.//

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ After action report submitted re: personal and systemic tactical errors made in confronting loosely organized insurgency.

//

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ After action report submitted re: role of mysticism and underestimation of same in defeat of Galactic Empire.

//

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ After action report submitted re: long-term failures of hierarchy in Galactic Empire.

//

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ please answer //

>>

>>

>>

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ After action report submitted re: analysis of overall errors of agent assigned to mission.

//

>>

>>

>>

>>

>>>[PRIMARY CHANNEL-->>MESSAGE ORIGIN IMPERIAL SPACE//DESTINATION ASCENDANCY]

/ Terms of surrender accepted by Imperial Remnant. Copy attached. Notes on potential members of new government attached. Analysis overall: charismatic, idealistic, disorganized. Do not approach for allyship, status unstable. Instability likely to continue indefinitely. Total mission failure.

//

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin ascendancy//destination imperial space]

/ ?????? demand personal status update. extraction requested? present coordinates? oath intact. //

>>

>>

>>

>>

[tunnel.key 903A7/message origin imperial space//destination ascendancy]

/ cannot provide requested information. extraction unnecessary. indeed, impossible. personal status unimportant. oath intact, as you say, always. farewell. //

>>

>>

>>

>>

\--no further messages recorded--

\--relay station shutdown and self-destruct scheduled--

 

 

 

 

 


	2. A Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation is held, a plan is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have my personal guarantee that space whales will not be appearing in or even mentioned in this fic.

**A transcript of a conversation which occurred at the central offices of the Chiss Aristocra, Csaplar, Csilla. Day 7, Cycle 14, Year 6450 (circa 7 ABY) at 0230 hours.**

 

 

“Come in. Oh, of course. I was expecting you a lot sooner. The representative of the First Ruling Family recognizes the representative from the Second.”

 

“You know this isn't an official visit. Speak Basic in case we're overheard.”

 

“I know that. Tell me your plan, then.”

 

“The Council meeting today was a sham. It can't just be me, right? Tell me that you thought so, too.”

 

“They said they'd consider taking action. They were willing to discuss your proposal.”

 

“As an exercise!  _ Considering  _ taking action means they'll debate it for a year, and the decision they'll ultimately make will be to put it up for further study, before it even goes to Parliament. We don't have a year. We probably don't even have a week! We should have been talking extraction two years ago but Ar’alani refused to admit that her plan was going down in flames until — ”

 

“All right. I do agree with you. The meeting  _ was _ a mere indulgence, a thought exercise. You're right, they won't take action in an appropriately timely fashion. You can sit down, you know.”

 

“I’m sorry, I just — ”

 

“No need to apologize. I understand what this means to you. So am I right in assuming you're here with an alternative proposal? For my consideration only?”

 

“I'm going. You can consider it or not, back me or not, but I'm going.”

 

“Just you?”

 

“We don't need the CEDF involved, we don't need a diplomatic contingent...you've read the reports. The place is in shambles, they're still rebuilding, their leadership is inexperienced. Now is the best time to go.”

 

“The report said not to approach them.”

 

“You read the report. He’s not...Anyway, it said not to approach them for  _ allyship _ .”

 

“You’ll approach with threats, then?”

 

“I’m not sure how I'll approach. I need to assess the situation for myself. But I won't promise or threaten anything we can't back up. They can't afford to irritate a potential ally  _ or _ inflame a potential enemy right now. I'll make them walk the line between the two.”

 

“Improvisation has always been your strong suit.”

 

“Well, expert tactician was taken.”

 

“I hope my brother fully appreciates your loyalty.”

 

“We’ve honored our oaths to each other, I'm sure of that.”

 

“I can tell. What do you need from me?”

 

“A ship. Cover. If this is successful, it will be a credit to the First Ruling Family—”

 

“And a public relations coup for the Second.”

 

“That's our specialty. Human interest.”

 

“...”

 

“That was a joke. Don't tell me you don't understand the subtleties, your Basic is — ”

 

“No, I understood it. It was just a terrible pun.”

 

“Fine. A ship, cover: that's all I'm asking for. Take the credit if it works, disavow me if it doesn't.”

 

“...All right. Agreed. When will you leave?”

 

“Now.”

 

“Tomorrow morning. Let me prepare a few things. Another night won't make that much difference, Eli.”

 

“...”

 

“I think you will succeed. But you have to let me help. Tomorrow morning, I swear. Agreed?”

 

“Okay. Agreed. Thrass...”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Thank you.”

 

 


	3. A Coded Transmission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eli makes a bold request.

**A coded transmission sent from a relay station on the outskirts of Chiss Ascendancy-controlled space to the temporary headquarters of the Provisional New Republic Senate, Chandrila, circa 7 ABY.**

 

 

Chancellor Mon Mothma of the New Republic, my greetings.

 

I will shortly be arriving, as a representative of the Chiss Ascendancy, to meet with you in order to discuss the extradition of our native citizen, Mitth'raw'nuruodo, lately Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy, Seventh Fleet. 

It is my personal hope, as well as that of members of the Five Ruling Families and the Aristocra, that we will reach a mutually beneficial agreement regarding this matter. 

Please prepare for my arrival privately. I wish to meet with you alone. 

 

With respect and honor,

 

Syndic Kres’Eli Vanto of the Second Ruling Family

Former Captain, Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet

Former Lieutenant Commander, Imperial Navy

 

 


	4. A Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chancellor Mon Mothma weighs her options regarding the Chiss Ascendancy's overture, and requests assistance.

 

**A clandestine meeting, near Hanna City, Chandrila. 7 ABY.**

 

 

Mon Mothma’s research into the Chiss had turned up bafflingly incomplete information, a mixture of myth and truth that was impossible to sort out. The former Republic had had little to no contact with them, nor had the recently-fallen Empire, aside from the discovery of the Grand Admiral on an isolated world years before the war. Records on that occurrence were _very_ vague indeed.

The man himself, the only member of that species who could confirm or deny the information she _had_ found, was not inclined to speak to her, for obvious reasons. And she wasn’t exactly inclined to reveal the communique to him — someone who had so recently sought her destruction and the destruction of all she valued. A prisoner. A war criminal.

The question of what to do, in general, with the imprisoned former heads of the Imperial Navy had been hotly debated off-and-on for the last two years. Every method of dealing with them — the Admirals and other high-ranking officers that were in custody, particularly the famous ones — had been suggested: summary execution (arguments were lodged for making these executions public or private, depending on the speaker), lifelong imprisonment, a chance at rehabilitation, a series of public tribunals...the list went on.

Meanwhile, they languished in prison. They were treated well, of course. The New Republic was _not_ the Empire.

Her research into the former Imperial officer who seemed to have gained the ability to speak on the behalf of an entire civilization, Eli Vanto, was similarly baffling. True enough, he had been a Lieutenant Commander, an aide to the man in question, Grand Admiral Thrawn. But before that, he’d had a relatively obscure career. Officially, he had died in a shuttle accident shortly before the war had broken out in earnest.

Someone, somewhere, was lying. She wasn’t sure if it was the records or the person who had written the communication. And there was no way to tell. For _her_ to tell, at least.

Mon Mothma turned to look at the man who stood beside her. Luke Skywalker was quiet, thoughtful, as he scanned the Chandrilan sky. He was very different from his sister, Leia, who was one of Mon Mothma’s closest friends. One of her closest friends...and a war hero, and an influential member of the new, and still-shaky New Republic Senate.

And, as much as Mon Mothma admired her friend, she knew that Leia was also quick to act, and quick to judge. When Mon Mothma had confided in Luke about the communique she had received from the Unknown Regions, he had, understandably, been confused as to why she would tell _him_ rather than his sister. Or anyone else in the Senate.

 _Leia is...passionate,_ she had said. _Passionate and idealistic. We need idealists in this government, to be sure, but…_

He had looked at her with a clear, blue-eyed gaze that was somehow innocent and unsettling at the same time. She forgot, sometimes, how young he and Leia were, to be so influential in their respective spheres.

 _I’m no politician, Chancellor,_ he had said. _But I think I understand what you mean. Are you sure I should be there? The message asks for you alone._

 _I need your...insight,_ she had said. He had his own path to attend to. He couldn’t play a human lie-detector for every Senate session, as she might wish. But surely this once...in such a delicate and unknown situation...

_You want me to tell you whether this representative is being honest? I think I can do that. Intent isn’t always straightforward, though. People’s motivations are complicated. Even sensed through the Force._

_I’m aware,_ she’d said, dryly. _But I’d like to know if this is a friendly overture, a threat, or something else entirely. And I also need your discretion. I am perhaps being...unwise in complying with these terms. I have prepared a contingency if it goes poorly._

Luke had agreed to honor her requests. That made her feel only slightly more confident.

Maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe it was foolishness. But she was tired of war, and even of what had come after victory, which couldn’t truly be called _peace:_ arguing the fine points of setting up a new government. Trying to keep all of its lofty ideals intact, while still having to deal with real problems. Problems that didn’t fit neatly into an idealist’s worldview.

If she could solve a potential diplomatic crisis quietly, with little involvement from the other members of the Senate, it would be better for their stability. Doubly so, if she could — equally as quietly — dispose of one of those prisoners with a famous name, for whom no one could agree on an appropriate verdict or sentence.

If these Chiss were sending only one representative, and had reasonable demands, well, there were much thornier problems awaiting her elsewhere. And all of _those_ were much closer to home.

For all her political skill and experience, as she watched the strangely-fitted ship set down in the agreed-upon secluded spot in the Chandrilan highlands, she still wasn’t sure if she had made the right choice.

The man who stepped out of the ship, his hands raised above his head to indicate the absence of weapons, certainly matched the appearance of the file holos of a younger Eli Vanto: brown-skinned, dark hair, dark eyes. He was perhaps forty now, she guessed, his hair just beginning to go gray at his temples. There was a hint of a scar, probably years-old, running horizontally across his face, stopping at the bridge of his nose, but it didn’t mar his good looks. He wore an elaborate gray robe-like garment with a dark red collar and trim.

He approached her almost casually, no indication of fear or apprehension in his posture.

She tensed slightly and glanced at Luke, who was frowning absently, looking into the middle distance at nothing. He caught her silent question and nodded at her. Safe, then.

“Chancellor Mothma, my greetings and the greetings of all who serve the Chiss,” Vanto said with a respectful bow. His voice was deep and even, with a hint of an accent she couldn’t quite place. “I am not armed and have brought no guards with me, as a guarantee of your safety. I enter the New Republic in peace, and with trust.”

The greeting sounded formalized, which meant there was probably a scripted response she was supposed to give. Of course, she didn’t know it.

She opened her mouth to reply, and the man gave her a wry smile before she could say anything. “Obviously,” he said. “You don’t have any reason to believe me. I won’t be offended if you want to search the ship, or take my biometrics to prove my identity. I’m dead, in your records, after all.” He eyed Luke. “And thank you for mostly honoring my terms, Chancellor. I expected more guards and a lot more blasters pointed at me.”

Mon Mothma collected herself, falling back on formality. “Syndic Kres’Eli Vanto of the Second Ruling Family, formerly of the Empire, I offer you my personal welcome. Unfortunately, I cannot greet you on behalf of the Provisional Senate or the New Republic as a whole, in deference to your terms. However, your commitment to peace and trust is appreciated, and rest assured that it will be returned in kind.”

She turned to indicate Luke, who still seemed lost in thought. “May I also introduce Jedi Master Luke Skywalker,” she said. “His presence will eliminate the need for such a search, although I _will_ take your biometrics. My apologies for violating your wish for a wholly private meeting, but I am sure you can understand the need to evaluate your oath of good faith.”

Vanto held out his hand for her scan. To Luke, he inclined his head. “Master Skywalker, my greetings. It’s an honor to meet you. News of your deeds has spread even to the Unknown Regions.”

Mon Mothma watched as Luke turned his distant, steady gaze on Vanto.

“Greetings, Syndic,” Luke said softly. To her, he said, “He keeps his oaths. All of them.”

It was the first time Vanto had shown any reaction, any body language other than confident readiness, and even then, the change was so subtle she nearly missed it. He stiffened, and leaned away from the Jedi for a fraction of a moment.

Then the confidence was back.

“Yes, I do, Master Skywalker,” he said easily. “Chancellor, I would like to see the prisoner in question before we discuss terms.”

 

 

 


	5. The Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reunion after ten years apart, a debate over language and trust, and some news from home.

 

 

Thrawn grimaced as the New Republic trooper jostled him for the dozenth time, setting off the stun cuffs yet again. Once or twice would have been explainable as an accident, but more than ten was subtle cruelty. He expected that, though. He knew what he represented to those on the other side of the Galactic Civil War. The winning side. 

His eyes had been covered, so the two troopers on either side of him were steering him along, although he was careful to keep his own footing. Occasionally, he could feel them quickening their paces to keep up with him, which was darkly satisfying, at least.

He hadn’t been told where he was being taken, but he hadn’t expected to be told. He had learned not to ask. 

The New Republic was not the Empire. There had been no torture, since his imprisonment two years previously — no physical torture, at least. But for a man who had once thrived on a steady diet of information — considering all the possibilities, mapping the future — being kept ignorant was as bad as being starved. 

He wondered if the Republic government had at last found the strength to conduct the executions of their imprisoned Imperial officers, but doubted that was so. It was the obvious solution to the problem he —  _ they _ presented, but as he had reported to the Ascendancy, the people in charge of the New Republic were indecisive, idealistic, and democratic to a fault. He didn’t think that was likely to have changed much in the interval. 

Thrawn’s eyes remained covered as he was pushed into a speeder. He could feel the movement of it for a longer period of time than he had expected. Then he was marched unceremoniously into another unknown place, descending a number of stairs in the process. Somewhere underground? He was still on the same world as the prison, Chandrila, at least. His transport had been land-based. 

At last, the blindfold was removed. The two troopers who had led him retreated hastily as he blinked slowly at them. They had left him cuffed, and he held his bound wrists in front of him carefully as he examined the place. 

It wasn’t a jail cell. It seemed like a room in a private residence, actually. Certainly underground — there were no windows. It had been stripped of furniture. There were faded areas on the walls and dents in the floor where objects had been removed. Nothing that could be used as a weapon, obviously. No breakables. No bed, so no covers or anything that could be turned into a rope. No windows, and one door, which he didn’t even try. It would be locked, and those troopers would be on guard. 

He sat down on the floor, back against the wall, to wait. 

 

—

 

Eli hadn’t expected the Jedi. He probably should have, after reading Thrawn’s report on the  _ role of mysticism in the defeat of the Galactic Empire _ , as he had put it. The people of the New Republic clearly put a lot of stock in these supposed powers. As far as the report had said, those who possessed them were rare. Skywalker might even be the only one, currently. 

Eli guessed he should be flattered that he rated that kind of scrutiny, but the man’s piercing blue eyes and distant manner had been extremely unsettling, to say the least. And the knowing tone in his voice when he’d quoted Eli’s own words about oath-keeping.... 

What else had the Jedi been able to see? Eli's true motivation? Would it be used against them? Was he still being watched, mentally — or even controlled? 

Eli suppressed a shiver, even though there was no one around to witness it. There was no use in thinking about that. If the information had been gained, there was nothing he could do about it now.

At least Skywalker had taken his leave, almost immediately, after the Chancellor had led Eli to a speeder driven by a nervous-looking New Republic soldier. From his position inside, Eli had watched Skywalker and the Chancellor exchange words. They seemed friendly toward each other, though the Chancellor was more deferential toward Skywalker than Eli would have expected. Skywalker was barely more than twenty-five, and held no official political role, as far as he knew. But now that Eli had actually met the man, he knew that Skywalker’s power and influence, wherever they came from, were undeniable. 

Eli put the experience out of his mind as the speeder and its entourage — a small contingent of military vehicles, which was closer to the kind of threat display that he  _ had _ expected, despite his request for discretion—pulled up outside of a residence. The task that had brought him here was more important than a mystic’s scrutiny. 

It was small, but well-appointed in the Chandrilan style, which Thrawn had always admired for its minimal and graceful lines. The house was set into a cliffside, and was surrounded by artfully haphazard landscaping. 

The Chancellor herself was an island of serenity between the tense troopers who accompanied her to escort him to the residence. 

“Welcome to my home, Syndic,” she said, as though this were a social visit. “In keeping with your request for discretion, and to display my trust, I thought this would be the most appropriate place for us to meet.” 

“I’m honored, Chancellor,” Eli said, impressed. Her choice to hold this meeting at her own home was an elegant solution. It put him on the defensive while allowing her to keep the upper hand and appear magnanimous at the same time. Thrawn’s notes on the Chancellor had, uncharacteristically, underestimated her. But then, Thrawn’s reports at the end had all been out of character. 

The Chancellor led Eli to the basement of the dwelling, to a nondescript door, guarded by two more wary troopers—a human man and Twi’lek female. 

Eli’s stomach was in knots. Living among the Chiss for ten years had broken his habit of clasping his hands together when he was nervous, but his fingers twitched at his sides. 

Mon Mothma nodded at the troopers, and they stood aside, unlocked the door, and opened it.

Thrawn was seated on the floor, straight-backed against the far wall, looking warily at the door. 

Ten years. It had been  _ ten years _ since that day on the  _ Chimera _ and it didn’t even matter. 

Eli looked at Thrawn—who had seen him now, had recognized him and was rising to his feet, taking a half-step forward— and Eli could swear that he could  _ feel _ the oath they’d sworn to each other as it pulled taut between them. The weight of it was a physical thing.  

He wanted to turn and punch the troopers flanking him, steal their weapons,  _ run _ back to his shuttle and get the hells out of here together. Thank the gods for ten years of Chiss stoicism. 

“ _ Well, you said it was a long story, but I anticipate it is also an interesting one, Syndic. I’m afraid you must have misunderstood my last message,”  _ Thrawn said, in Cheunh, as if it had been ten minutes since they’d last spoken, instead of ten years. 

“Hey,” the human trooper said, looking at the Chancellor. “You can’t—”

“ _ It’s a great story, Admiral,”  _ Eli said, in the same language. He couldn’t resist sparring with Thrawn, even under these circumstances.  _ “I know you enjoy my stories. I’m looking forward to telling it when we’re in private. And I understood your message perfectly, I just disagreed with your conclusion.” _

Thrawn closed his eyes, bowed his head without replying. 

“Chancellor, they shouldn’t—they should speak Basic!”

“Syndic, I’m afraid that he is correct—”

“ _ How are you being treated, Thrawn?”  _ Eli said, urgently, disliking Thrawn’s slumped posture, his aura of defeat and powerlessness, so different from his confident commanding officer. “ _ Before we have to switch, tell me if I should take this place apart when we leave. My oath is intact.”  _

Thrawn looked up, his face blank, but his voice at least had a little of the subtle humor Eli remembered so well.  _ “My treatment has been fine, Eli. No need to get theatrical. It is...good to see you. My oath...is intact, as well, for what it’s worth.” _

_ “Artfully understated as per usual. Good to see you, too. And you know exactly what your oath is worth, to me, _ ” Eli said. He was glad of his hard-earned unemotional mask, how it was keeping him from reaching out, revealing himself in front of the Chancellor and her soldiers. 

“Syndic, I really must request that you and the prisoner speak only Basic,” Mon Mothma said. “We have displayed our trust. Surely you can see how conversing in a language none of us can speak is a test of that trust.” 

The Chancellor considered them with only faint disapproval, while the troopers were barely keeping themselves from leaping at him. Eli remained still, looking at Thrawn. He gave Eli his Chiss-grin, the corners of his mouth turning upward ever so slightly. It seemed like an expression long disused. 

Eli let himself relax a little, and turned to the Chancellor. “Apologies, Chancellor Mothma. We were just exchanging personal greetings. Surely  _ you _ can see how a man who hasn't heard his native tongue for ten years would want to hear it from an old friend?” 

“Of course, Syndic,” she said, placatingly. “However, I still insist.” 

“All right, I can agree to your terms,” Eli said, as though he were doing her a favor. “May I ask that your troopers withdraw for a moment while we discuss?” 

The two troopers protested, but the Chancellor dismissed them. She had to, Eli knew. She had hampered herself by keeping this discussion from her Senate, and she wouldn’t trust random troopers to keep its true purpose a secret. 

To Thrawn he said, in Basic, “Mitth'raw'nuruodo, I bring greetings from the Second Ruling Family as their representative, and from Syndic Mitth'ras'safis in his capacity as representative of the First Ruling Family. The Chancellor has agreed to hear our proposal for your extradition, that you may face justice in the Ascendancy rather than in the New Republic, for your...crimes.”

“The...First Ruling Family,” Thrawn said, slowly. 

“Yes, Mitth’ras’safis has been,” Eli’s kept his face impassive as he he turned to the Chancellor for a moment. “Sorry, Chancellor, this doesn’t exactly translate.” He switched to Cheunh for only the very beginning of his sentence. “ _ A very good friend to me and also, a real pain in the ass to the Aristocra, _ for the last ten years. Your clan’s status has risen accordingly.” 

“I would expect nothing less from him,” Thrawn said, similarly straight-faced. “Understood, Syndic, Chancellor. I will await the outcome of your discussion. For myself, I will say only that I indeed deserve to face justice, wherever it is ultimately meted out.” 

Eli studied his expression—the expression on  _ Thrawn’s face _ , right there, feet away: it seemed unbelievable—but didn’t detect anything but truthfulness and resignation. Eli only had the official reports to go on when it came to Thrawn’s experiences in the Empire since Eli’s departure, but they hadn’t appeared pleasant. 

When they were alone, he’d get the truth. 

“I want the stun cuffs removed, Chancellor,” Eli said, turning to leave, wishing he could add something reassuring to Thrawn, in Cheunh. “That is unnecessary cruelty. I think you’ll agree.” 

 


	6. Strategy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eli prepares for an important conference.

 

 

Thrawn could hear the two troopers arguing in harsh whispers outside the room. 

“No, you do it. Twi’leks are stronger.”

“No,  _ you  _ do it. I have seniority.” 

“Yeah, by about a week, Jyssa! Come on, don’t make me. He’ll rip me apart.” 

He walked over to the door and said, in a low voice. “Neither of you have anything to fear from me.” 

Thrawn  _ really _ didn’t want to admit how much he enjoyed the moment of stunned silence that followed. Both troopers ended up entering the room, the human pointing a blaster at Thrawn with fear in his eyes, while the Twi’lek disabled and removed the cuffs. They left as quickly as possible, never turning their backs to him. 

He took his position against the wall, facing the door again, and allowed himself a true smile.  _ Eli Vanto, Syndic of the Second Ruling Family. Indeed,  _ he thought. 

As remarkable as it was, if any human could rise so far in the Chiss Ascendancy, it would be Eli. And Thrass, his infuriating brother, had managed to pull the Mitth’ clan to primacy. He shook his head. Of course he had—it was  _ Thrass _ , after all. He hadn’t even thought about how Eli would get along with Thrass. Clearly, it was a beneficial partnership. He pitied everyone on the opposite side of it. 

Eli had aged, as Thrawn had himself, and yet, he was still as aesthetically pleasing as he had been as a young man. And how had he managed to preserve that hint of a Lysatran twang after ten years of speaking Cheunh? That was almost too much to take. 

Thrawn wondered about the scar on Eli's face. And he had detected a certain stiffness about his former aide’s movements, something a human never would have noted. He remembered the lapse of time between their messages, years prior, and then Eli’s answer:  _ status improving. _ An injury? An illness? 

He had sent Eli to the Ascendancy to  _ remove _ him from harm’s way, and he had still managed to come to harm on his own. But not just to harm — he had gained power and influence, clearly. And carried it well. He had earned the title of Syndic. 

And Thrawn was a war criminal. 

_ I know you enjoy my stories. I’m looking forward to telling it when we’re in private.  _

Of course he'd understood the reference. Thrawn had thought about that night on Vria often.  _ Are you asking me to tell you a story? _ Eli had said. The night everything had changed between them. Here they were, ten years later, and Eli still thought about that night, still referred to it with humor. But there were no such stories that Thrawn looked forward to telling about the time they had spent apart. 

Thrawn looked at the door. He did not deserve such loyalty. He truly did look forward to justice being done, one way or another.  

 

—

 

Eli stared up at the ceiling of his room. It was a nice room: comfortable, well-decorated. He couldn’t wait to leave it. 

He was being treated as a guest, but there was still a trooper stationed outside. If he tried to leave in the middle of the night, he was sure he’d be met with very polite offers of assistance in finding anything he might need, while the trooper kept one hand on a blaster, of course. Eli couldn’t blame the Chancellor. He was an unknown agent of a potentially hostile foreign power. He would have done the same in her position. 

And she was making him wait. That, too, was a strategy he would have employed. Eli had tried to bring up his proposal as soon as they had left Thrawn’s temporary prison cell, but she had brushed it aside, very politely, by saying that she was sure he was tired, it was a long journey from the Unknown Regions, and wouldn’t it make more sense to start formal negotiations first thing in the morning? He couldn't do anything but agree.

Over dinner, Eli had had to keep a very careful account of what seemed like a perfectly innocent conversation about the natural beauty of Chandrila and other innocuous, politically neutral topics. The Chancellor had a way of asking polite, sweet-natured questions that were really fishing expeditions for information about the Ascendancy: its location, its military strength, Eli’s exact status in the Chiss’s complicated hierarchy, and the political situation on Csilla. He had batted her attempts aside as politely as he could. 

At least, he thought he had. 

The woman was a master. Eli was taking careful notes about her tactics. He wished he had brought Thrass, if only for the entertainment value of seeing the two of them match wits. He could have used the company, too, if he was being honest. He could have used the distraction. 

Eli had started to argue for ending Thrawn’s mission early shortly after he had arrived in the Ascendancy. There, he had learned the scope of the plan that Thrawn and Admiral Ar’alani had come up with together, the desire to cultivate a strong military ally against a gathering dark force that the Chiss only dimly understood. That made sense to him. It had seemed possible. 

And then the mission reports had become more and more grim as time went on. From a distance, Eli watched the Empire he’d grown up in — the place he’d served as a soldier — utterly fall apart. 

_ What’s the point of keeping him there? There won’t be anything left to ally with! _ he remembered saying, after receiving yet another report of a battle gone horribly wrong. The Chiss, though, moved slowly, if at all, when it came to their plans. They preferred to watch and wait. And then, to keep waiting. It had been almost intolerable. The one thing that had held him back was the  _ Dark Vigilance _ incident. He had been recovering for months and hadn’t been able to focus on anything except the recovery. Frustrating was an understatement. 

Then there had been everything that had come after the incident. The war, though it was brief and decisive. The clan obligations, which had not been either brief or clear-cut, by contrast. When he’d finally waded through all of  _ that _ , he’d been furious with Thrawn in a way he still didn’t understand. It was an  _ insurgency _ , small when compared to the force of the Imperial Navy. When Eli had left the Empire, the rebels hadn’t even had central leadership, funding, ships. Why had they become so hard to defeat? What had changed? 

The reports devolved into cool and impartial accounts of events that Eli would have written off as fantasies, if they had come from anyone else. How could a superweapon the size of a planet have been destroyed by a single snubfighter? Why build a  _ second _ one after the failure of the first? Who was in charge, and why were they so  _ stupid _ ? 

The Thrawn he knew deserved a better commander, more sensible orders. Why not refuse the orders? Why not leave, fake his own death as Eli had done? Thrawn was stubborn, devoted to his task, to those serving under him. Maybe that was why he hadn’t asked Ar’alani to extract him, or just done it himself, without the Military Hierarchy’s permission. Eli still didn’t know. 

And he was still, honestly, furious about it. How dare Thrawn get him out of the way — supposedly to protect him — and then recklessly risk his own life for an ally that obviously had never been a good bet in the first place?

Eli would call him to account for all of it, as soon as they got out of here. As soon as he got Thrawn alone. 

Well, he thought, recalling Thrawn’s gaze a few hours before, the way he had looked at Eli when he’d first walked into the room. Maybe calling Thrawn to account would be the second thing he did when he got him alone. Eli could forget his anger for a few hours; it was a long way back to the Ascendancy from here, after all.

 

 


	7. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Syndic Kres'Eli Vanto and Chancellor Mon Mothma match wits.

 

“How was your evening, Syndic Vanto?” Chancellor Mothma greeted him as one of the troopers escorted him to a conference table. 

Eli wondered if the Chancellor had done this before, hosted a particularly delicate meeting personally, or if she was just so dedicated to her job that she needed a conference room at her private residence. At all times. For...conference emergencies. 

Eli hadn’t gotten much sleep. 

He had kept thinking about how  _ close _ he was to Thrawn. It had been so long, one more night apart shouldn’t have driven him to such distraction, but now that his goal was within reach...

“Just fine, Chancellor. Thanks again for your hospitality. And it’s actually Syndic Kres’Vanto. Our clan names are similar to surnames.” 

Even more properly, it was his full name altogether—clan, personal, and family— but that was a mouthful for humans. For humans besides himself, he amended. He’d been thinking of himself as Chiss for so long, it was odd to be back among humans at all.  

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she smiled, politely. Eli wondered if even that slight correction had been too much information given away too freely. “Syndic Kres’Vanto, then. I imagine it’s quite an honor for a human to join a clan? Or is that common?” 

There she went again, fishing for information. 

“It’s always an honor to join a high-ranking family, even in most human societies, isn’t it, Chancellor?” he said, equally politely. 

“Oh, indeed,” she said. Stalemate on that one. “Now that we’re rested and refreshed, I’m looking forward to hearing your proposal.” 

It wasn’t exactly a proposal. It was more of an ultimatum. 

He jumped right into it. “The Ascendancy has been briefed on the New Republic’s current political situation, Chancellor. We know that things are...unstable. You have a lot to figure out, moving forward. And it seems that you’re at a stalemate on what to do with your former Imperial prisoners, given that no sentences have been passed on any of them, despite the Imperial Instruments of Surrender designating all of them as guilty of war crimes. Do I have that right?” 

“I wouldn’t call the New Republic unstable, Syndic,” she said. 

Her face was impassive, for a human, but Eli was attuned to her body language, after so long with the Chiss, who had almost none. Her hand closed involuntarily on the arm of her chair, and Eli saw her knuckles whiten. 

A hit. 

“I think you would,” he returned. “In private, anyway. Otherwise, why deal with me alone?” 

She said nothing. Score one for him. 

“We want Mitth'raw'nuruodo returned to us, Chancellor. He’s here languishing in prison, but his clan is First Ruling right now. He’s valuable.” 

Not quite true. He was valuable to Eli, not to the Mitth’ clan, exactly. Though, of course, they would appreciate his return.

“He is to face justice for his crimes,” Chancellor Mothma said. Her voice was neutral. 

“What crimes?” Eli said. “Crimes against a rebel insurgency? Just because you’re now in power doesn’t automatically make every person in a vast hierarchy who fought against you a criminal. Just on the wrong side of history.” 

“The ranking members of the Imperial Navy,” the Chancellor said carefully, “including all the Grand Admirals, agreed to allow the use the Death Star against populated rebel worlds.  _ Worlds _ , Syndic. Not just cities. They only did it once and the result...billions of people, an entire culture and biosphere, wiped out. Your citizen is complicit in that.”

“What was his vote?” Eli said. “Did he agree with its use? Do you know for a fact?” 

Again, her hand tightened on the arm of the chair. She didn’t know. 

“He is also complicit in the torture of prisoners,” she said, skipping the question. “And the massacre at Batonn—”

“No,” Eli said. “I don’t know about torture. I would doubt it, but if it’s true, you know that was standard Imperial procedure — as reprensible as that is. But Batonn was a crime, sure. And it was caused by an Imperial governor, Arihnda Pryce. I was there, I can vouch for that. You can call Skywalker back here, have him read my mind.” 

“Regardless—” the Chancellor said, trying to maintain her control over the conversation. 

“Regardless,” Eli said. “Your evidence is pretty thin for such a dramatic sentence. On  _ all  _ officers. I’m starting to understand why there have never been any public trials.”

Silence. Two points for him. That was the opening salvo, now it was time for the gift. 

Eli took out a datacard and placed it on the table in front of him. “I’m sure you did your research about how Mitth'raw'nuruodo was discovered by the Empire.”

She nodded. “He was an exile in uncharted space.” 

“Well, I was there for that, too,” Eli said. “He was given as a gift to the Emperor. And how is a  _ gift _ to refuse orders, Chancellor? He barely spoke Basic, at the time.” 

Okay, that last part was a lie. Thrawn's Basic had been fine, it had only had gaps. But Mothma was looking astonished. He kept at it. “I’ll tell you something else, which I know  _ wasn’t _ in that record. He was sent into danger, willingly, by the Ascendancy. To help the Empire. Because of threats that are gathering in the Unknown Regions, threats that we’ve been watching for decades. We wanted to cultivate a strong ally here, the better to fight it. That was his true goal.” 

Eli tapped the datacard. “When you review this information, you’ll understand why he was willing to follow such...extreme orders, in the name of the safety of  _ trillions _ of his own people, over dozens of worlds.” 

Mothma raised her eyebrows. Now she knew the scope of the Ascendancy, if not its location. She reached for the datacard. 

He put it back in his pocket. “It’s meant as an exchange, Chancellor.” 

“If we are to be allies—”

“No,” Eli said, but gently. “I’m sorry, Chancellor Mothma. The Ascendancy isn’t offering a formal alliance, the opening of trade, the exchange of diplomats. We're offering the status quo. But if you return our citizen, there will be someone kindly disposed to you out there watching your back in the Unknown Regions. And there will be highly placed people in our government who will appreciate his return. You’ll have made friends. If you insist on holding him prisoner, sentencing him, judging him, well…” 

He trailed off, letting her fill in the rest. 

“Is the Chiss Ascendancy threatening the New Republic?” she said. Her voice was even, but steely. She’d led her people through a war before, that voice said, and she’d do it again, but she wouldn’t relish it. 

“No, we’re not,” he said. He watched her shoulders relax minutely at that, and suppressed a smile. His comment about  _ trillions  _ of Chiss on  _ dozens _ of worlds had struck home. “We don’t believe in preemptive strikes, we don’t need more territory, and we don’t believe in needless war. If you refuse, we wouldn’t be enemies. But we certainly wouldn’t feel very inclined to future friendship.” 

“That's not exactly a generous offer,” Mothma said, wryly. Her eyes trailed to the pocket where he’d placed the datacard, though. She clearly wanted that information. 

Eli remembered: body language. He spread his hands wide, a gesture of honesty. “You're not giving us much in return. One man? In the final analysis...that's hardly anything at all.” 

The Chancellor sighed, sat back in her chair. Eli felt hope rising in him. 

“And what do I tell my people once a high-level prisoner has gone missing?” 

“Who said anything about missing?” Eli said. Almost there. He almost had her. “He died in custody of...some kind of wasting disease, something your people didn’t know how to treat.” 

Chancellor Mothma put her hands on the table, palms flat. “You were a Lieutenant Commander from Lysatra, Syndic Kres’Vanto. You trained in supply and logistics, I believe,” she said. “My father was a governor, I became a senator at nineteen. How did you just argue me into a corner?”

Eli smiled. “I wasn’t just a Lieutenant Commander, Chancellor. I was Thrawn’s aide.” 

 


	8. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving the New Republic is both a little easier and a little more difficult that Eli expected.

 

 

“You want to  _ what _ ?” Eli said, and wondered at the emotion in his voice. He had only been in the New Republic for three days, and he was already losing his composure. He wondered how Thrawn had put up with him for so long. Humans really were overdramatic, as a whole. 

“Your suggestion, a terminal illness...it made sense,” the Chancellor said. “And you are the representative here to collect his body for an honorable burial or other ceremony in his native land. I want the troopers here to see it, Syndic. It was necessary for our safety to have them here, but people do talk. I would rather the gossip that  _ does _ get out match the official story.”

It  _ did _ make sense. And it  _ had _ been his idea. He’d made it up on the spot. He hadn’t cared what story the New Republic told. Until now, anyway. 

“And this drug is effective and safe?” Eli said. His fingers twitched again.  _ Don’t do anything stupid,  _ he told himself.  _ This is almost over _ . “I didn’t just negotiate with you for a dead man.” 

“Effective enough, safe enough, although not pleasant,” Mon Mothma said, apologetically. “There wouldn’t be any lasting harm. He wouldn’t actually die, but he will end up deeply unconscious at the end of a day or so. I’ll falsify records to suggest this started much earlier. My people did search your ship. By all accounts, your medbay should be equipped for the recovery.” 

“I want to talk to him, propose it to —” 

“No, Syndic,” Mon Mothma shook her head. “No conversations, not in Basic where you can be overheard, and not in his native tongue, which will raise suspicions.”

Thrawn would think he was dying. And Eli wouldn’t be there.

“So dismiss the guards,” Eli said, knowing even as he said it that it wasn’t an option.

She shook her head again. “I’m sure you’re anxious to leave. You must have other matters to attend to at home, as I do here. These are my terms. You can think them over before accepting or accept them now. You said yourself, things here are...unstable. I have to protect what I can.”

Right when he thought he had won, the Chancellor got in a last point. Eli inclined his head to her. “You make a good argument, Chancellor,” he said, hating himself. “I’ll accept. And then we’ll leave.” The sooner, the better. 

“I wish I could offer you a job here, Syndic,” she said. “But I suspect I know where your loyalties lie.”  

“I’ll bet you do,” Eli said, and returned to his room. 

 

—

 

The drug took effect so quickly that Eli suspected the Chancellor had administered it before bringing it up to him at all. By sundown the next day, Thrawn was comatose. 

By the next morning, he was, to the casual observer, dead. 

Eli didn’t even have time to consider what he would have said to Thrawn if he’d asked to see Eli on what he believed to be his deathbed, and Eli was relieved. He wasn’t ready for that, after ten years apart. If the Chancellor or her people would have even told him that Thrawn had asked for him. If Thrawn would have even had the chance to ask for him. 

When he was finally returned to his ship, he barely waited for the hatch to close before getting Thrawn to the medbay. 

Eli felt himself relax as the med droid detected a pulse, a heartbeat, breathing — however faint. Mothma was honest, at least. Otherwise, he  _ definitely _ would have broken the Chiss's law about preemptive strikes. 

He returned to the bridge, such as it was. Thrass’s ship was small, but luxurious, and came equipped with a lot of things that made this trip easier. Eli tapped a few keys on the datapad set into the comm console, and it beeped disapprovingly. 

He shook his head. Not one, but four trackers, one equipped to broadcast through hyperspace. Well, they’d had to try. He pressed another key, and watched as the lights indicating the trackers died, one-by-one. 

He checked another console, the medbay monitor. 

Time to check on Thrawn’s promised miraculous recovery.

 

—

 

Thrawn had never believed in an afterlife. The Chiss didn’t have a tradition that included one, but many of his staff members had. 

It was an interesting notion. As he considered the ceiling above him, the low background hum, the weakness in his limbs...the last thing he could remember before this was...the odd, blank room. Eli had been there? Or was that a hallucination? Maybe there really was an afterlife and that’s where this was. 

“How are you feeling?” A voice speaking Cheunh, with the barest hint of a Lysatran accent. 

Thrawn blinked. “Eli?” 

“Yeah, it’s me,” Eli said, and then Thrawn saw him, standing in the doorway. Thrawn’s sight was still blurry, but as Eli moved closer, his features came into sharper focus. 

“You will need to update me on our present situation,” Thrawn said, carefully. “What was the decision as to my extradition?” 

Eli grinned. Thrawn reached up and touched his face, reassuring himself that Eli was really there. 

“We’re on the way back to the Ascendancy now,” Eli said, covering Thrawn’s hand with his own. His skin was distractingly warm. Just like Thrawn remembered. “The Chancellor and I got along pretty well. She did pull a last minute trick on me, which is why you feel like…”

“Like I am dead and this is the afterlife,” Thrawn finished. 

Eli laughed. “Yeah, like that. But you’re not, you’re definitely alive and you’re definitely with me.” He was still grinning. 

“I told you extraction was impossible, and yet, you came for me,” Thrawn said, wonderingly. 

“I didn’t believe you,” Eli said. “ _ And _ you were clearly wrong, which is kind of new.” 

“I made a lot of mistakes, Eli,” Thrawn said, closing his eyes. 

“Yeah, you were pretty stupid, for you, at the end there,” Eli agreed. “Thrass barely stopped me from leaving the minute after we got that last transmission.” 

“You sound considerably more Lysatran when you say things like that,” Thrawn muttered. “I am glad to hear your voice, even if you are insulting me.” 

“Glad to hear your voice, too, but that doesn’t even cover it,” Eli said. His voice was soft, and he looked at Thrawn in disbelief. 

Thrawn understood the feeling. The years and distance were there, filling the space between them. Ten years was a long time to have been apart. But...Thrawn was starting to believe that this was actually happening. 

"And how have you managed to keep your accent intact all these years?" he said, lightly, to cover the emotion of it, the slight awkwardness. His gratitude and relief.    


"Force of will," Eli said. "I can sound like a native Csaplarian if I want to, but the accent is helpful. People underestimate me. And," he shrugged. "I know you like it."   


"I do," Thrawn allowed. 

Eli’s face changed, dark brows knitting together in anger. "Why did you do it, Thrawn? Why did you stay so long? We could have pulled you out sooner. Thrass and I could have done it before you even ended up in prison."   


"Because I failed," Thrawn said. It was obvious, wasn't it?   


"You didn't lose the entire war by yourself, I read the reports. Imperial leadership was a mess. There were a lot of factors—"   


"Of course there were. But  _ I _ failed, personally. I compromised my honor, my ethics, my tactics. In particular, during the first year or so after I sent you to the Ascendancy. On Lothal, with Pryce...I am glad you were not there to witness my actions."   


"That wasn't my most...honorable year, either," Eli said, not meeting Thrawn's eyes.   


Thrawn remembered something Faro had said, just after Eli had left. "Crying, becoming very drunk, making questionable sexual advances to strangers, throwing things, starting fights?" he asked.   


Eli blinked. "Some of those. Not the questionable sexual advances; as you know, our people don't really do that, and I had an oath to keep. But the rest of it, yeah. I was a mess."   


_ Our _ people, Thrawn noted, not  _ your  _ people. He had wondered, often, how Eli was faring among the Chiss. Clearly, the Ascendancy had more than suited him.    


"Emotionally compromised," Thrawn said, dragging the words out. Admitting that, even now, was difficult. "I only threw things."   


"You did?" Eli said. He sounded almost impressed. "What kinds of things?"   


Thrawn ignored the question. "And worse. I allowed...things to happen under my command I should not have. And then Captain Faro defected—"   


" _ Karyn _ defected?   


"She took leave to visit her partner on Bothawui and did not return. She ended up captaining a rebel cruiser. I never faced her but I heard she was quite formidable." He had been, strangely, proud of her through it all. "She was highly decorated by the rebels after the war. I followed her career with interest."   


"So you were alone."   


"I had other aides, other staff. A bridge crew, a good one." That wasn’t what Eli had meant, Thrawn knew. He had been alone.    


"Who was your aide, after me?"   


"I do not remember her name, and I cannot say I would know her if she walked into the room right now," Thrawn said. "Nor the one after her."   


Eli looked at him sadly. "I'm sorry," he said.    


"And now...I am sure all of it will come out at my court martial. You can judge for yourself, then."   


"Court martial?" Eli said.   


"I am being extradited to face justice, am I not?"   


Eli looked away, but he was half-smiling. "Oh, well. About that. Um, maybe not. Actually..."   


"Do you still blush? And yet you think yourself Chiss..." Thrawn said lightly, noting the heat signature on Eli's face, the back of his neck. A habit he'd always found intriguing, to say the least.    


"I don’t do it as much anymore. I guess you bring it out in me," Eli said. He reached out, hesitantly, touched Thrawn’s hand.    


"Wait a moment, do not distract me," Thrawn said, although Eli was the height of distraction just by his mere presence in the room, not to mention his touch. "I am not being court martialed?"   


"This is going to be a really long story, sir," Eli said. Thrawn watched Eli's face heat in the infrared again as he realized he'd used the honorific without thinking. 

Eli smiled, noticing Thrawn's attention. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather do something else first?” His voice was almost shy. An echo of the uncertain Ensign he'd first known so long ago. “If you're feeling okay—"   


They had more to say to each other, Thrawn thought, but Eli’s overture was plaintive. And Eli was  _ very _ distracting. His oath to Eli was the only one he had not dishonored. 

He made his own reference to those early days, after Vria. "Does this ship have a desk?" he said.    


Eli laughed. "It's Thrass's, so no. But the bed is—"   


"Too far away," Thrawn said, pulling Eli closer. Perhaps it was selfish, or dishonorable of him, but the other questions could wait.  

Thrawn sat on the edge of the medbay table and Eli stood, making them closer in height. Eli's mouth was hot on his own, his hands coming up to clasp the back of Thrawn's neck. He swayed into Thrawn, yielding to his touch, and Thrawn tangled his fingers in Eli's hair. This felt the same as it always had, as if no time had passed at all. 

But Eli still seemed hesitant, and Thrawn pulled back. Eli's eyes were dark, and glazed with lust, his lips parted. And yet, he made no move to join Thrawn on the table.    


"What is wrong?" Thrawn asked.   


"I...actually would really prefer the bed," Eli said, diffidently. "I mean, I'm not picky when it comes to you, I'd do it anywhere... it's just that it's easier."   


"Are you injured?" Thrawn said, his hands tightening on Eli's waist. "Did it happen while I was unconscious—"   


"No, it's an old injury," Eli said, with a rueful smile. "I'm fine, really. You'll see. It's kind of part of that long story I'm not telling right now."   


"Very well. You should have said—" Thrawn said, standing up. And nearly having to sit down again as a wave of dizziness overtook him. He swayed against Eli, who stood still, bracing him, waiting.    


"I'm sorry. I still don't know what they gave you," Eli said. Anger swelled in his voice. "I don’t know what I’m doing — you should probably be monitored for a while. They wouldn't let me warn you in advance..."   


"Monitoring is unnecessary. I am fine. And I was relieved," Thrawn said, brushing that aside. It didn’t matter how it had happened, the point was that he’d been able to leave at all. "I had at least seen you, spoken with you, and then I assumed I was getting the execution I'd been expecting..."   


"All right, that's enough," Eli said. "I get it. You've been among humans too long, their emotionality is catching. And you're making me feel old. Let's go,  _ sir _ ."   


"Yes, Syndic," Thrawn said, wryly.    


 

 

 


	9. Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good thing Thrass's ship has a really nice bed.

 

 

Of course, the sleeping quarters on any ship of Thrass's would be comfortable and luxurious to an almost un-Chisslike degree, but Thrawn barely saw the accomodations, nor did he care to. Eli had him backed against the wall within a second of entering the tiny room. The slight awkwardness after so long apart — the regrets — were nearly forgotten, the two of them desperate now to touch, to remember.    
  
"I'm guessing you want—" Eli murmured. His mouth was hot on Thrawn’s ear.    
  
"Yes," Thrawn gasped. The two of them had always been good at reading each other, each one of them taking a turn as the leader in bed, trading power back and forth. He wanted Eli in control, this time. 

He hadn't been touched except to be led, transferred from place to place, in two years. Before he was imprisoned, after Eli had left, he hadn't been touched at all, by anyone, unless he was fighting them. Eli's hands, slightly calloused, sliding under the nondescript shirt he was wearing, were driving everything from his mind, every recrimination, every doubt, everything except desire.    
  
"Eli," he said, just to say it. Just to hear it aloud.    
  
Eli smiled, pulled him over to the bed. Thrawn reached for the fastenings of Eli's Syndic uniform, and Eli grabbed his hand, stilling it for a moment.    
  
"I don't want you to be shocked," he explained. "I have a lot of scars, on the right side. And my right leg is cybernetic from the knee down."   
  
"Another part of your long story," Thrawn said, with his hand still on the fastenings.    
  
"Yes," Eli said, too steadily.    
  
"This as well?" Thrawn traced the scar on Eli's face.    


"Yes," Eli shivered at the touch. He raised his left hand to cover his eye, as he must have done at the time he’d gotten the scars, his palm facing up, and Thrawn saw that the line of the scar on his face matched one on his palm and wrist. "And that." His voice was a little defiant, as though he expected questions, an accounting of whatever had happened. 

Thrawn did want an accounting of it, but not from Eli.    
  
"Eli," Thrawn said, tracing the scar on Eli’s palm, too. "I will not be shocked." He undid the fastenings, pushed the heavy robe away. Eli let it fall on the floor behind him.    
  
Thrawn wasn't shocked, but he was angry. Later, he would ask after the status of those who were responsible for this, and if they weren't already dead, hunting them down would be his first task.  

There were mottled burn scars splashed over Eli's right side—blaster bolt scars, Thrawn  thought—they continued over his chest, his hip, and Thrawn could see where one started on his leg. He unfastened Eli's trousers. Eli stood still and let him do it. As he had said, his right leg had the subtly artificial look of a cybernetic, a very high quality one. Thrawn’s attention, though, as always, was drawn to Eli’s freckled chest, his athletic form. The erection brushing the flat planes of his stomach.    
  
"You know I have always admired works of art," Thrawn said, quietly. "Some of the works I admire most are the ones with what some would call flaws, evidence of the piece's creation process — brushstrokes, fingerprints, other signatures. And you are no exception."   
  
Eli grinned. Thrawn could see subtle tension leaving his posture. "It's not like I thought it would change anything, but, you still wonder..."   
  
"It changes nothing. What do you want me to do?" Thrawn asked.    
  
Eli sat on the edge of the bed, considering him. Thrawn thought he understood for a moment how Eli must have felt, those years ago on Vria. Thrawn was used to human looks, human body language. He had come to respect humans and even to like living among them, but they were a chaotic species: restless, open, always moving and changing, broadcasting their every thought through words and actions alike. 

By contrast, Eli had learned a Chiss's stillness, focus, intensity. His gaze was now a force to be reckoned with. 

Eli had become something more than the brilliant officer Thrawn had always pictured him as. Thrawn decided, looking at the man who had once been his aide, his friend, his partner—and might be again—that he liked this version of Eli Vanto, very much indeed.   
  
"Take off your clothes, and show me the respect due to a Syndic of the Second Ruling Family, Mitth'raw'nuruodo," Eli said, with a slow smile. 

  
The way Eli said his name, flawlessly, every syllable perfect...Thrawn didn’t take his eyes from Eli’s as he undressed, left his clothes in a pile on the floor, and sank to his knees in front of the bed. They kissed, hands on each other’s faces. 

Thrawn let his hands wander lower, to map Eli’s chest, murmuring, “Is this all right?” when his fingers brushed one of the scarred areas, and Eli’s breath hitched. 

“Yeah,” Eli said, voice rough. “Sensitive, not painful. I’ll say if it’s too much.” 

His hand barely brushed Eli’s cock. He watched in fascination as Eli’s entire body tightened, his back arching, head thrown back, an entirely disproportionate reaction to the gentleness of the touch. 

“I’ve thought about this...a lot,” Eli gasped out, hands tight on Thrawn’s waist. “For a long time. I didn’t think it would really—”

“I did not, either,” Thrawn said. “You saved my life,  _ hisbin’t bo ch’eo vu’er _ .”  _ Keeper of my honor.  _

“Well, I owed you,” Eli said. “A few times over, if I’m counting right.” 

“There’s no debt between equals,” Thrawn said, kneeling back down and taking Eli in his mouth. 

He kept his eyes open, looking up at Eli’s face. Eli’s eyes were closed, his hands barely gripping Thrawn’s shoulders, his muscles slack with pleasure. He was whispering a litany of soft words in Cheunh, until he shuddered, eyes snapping open, and pulled Thrawn up onto the bed, their bodies sliding against each other. 

“I don’t want to end this that early, gods, you…” Eli said, his hands hot on Thrawn’s back, drifting down his body, gently. 

Thrawn cut him off, rolling them over so Eli was on top of him. “We have time,” he murmured. 

“Yeah, I guess we—ah, okay! I’ll—” 

“I do want to talk to you, Eli,” Thrawn said. “But for right now, will you please just—”

Eli grinned and blushed. “I’ll shut up,” he promised.

Eli’s hands were slick now, and he stroked Thrawn’s cock expertly, just how he remembered. Eli’s other hand was at his entrance, teasing, stretching him open. It was slow, lazy, as though Eli had taken Thrawn’s mention of  _ time _ to heart. Thrawn was sorry he’d said it now, rocking back against the touch. 

“I did not say you had to shut—” It was becoming more difficult to form words by the moment. He gasped as Eli added another finger, stroked upward “...Eli,  _ please _ —”

“Ask me, Thrawn,” Eli said, voice low. “I want to, but I want to hear you say it—”

Eli liked to see him undone, liked to hear his voice desperate, liked him to say things he would normally never...Basic was a rougher language than Cheunh. Thrawn switched to it and hissed, deliberate, emphasizing every syllable, “Eli. Will you...fuck me,  _ please. Now.” _

“Oh, gods,” Eli said, also in Basic.

And then they were both beyond any of the languages they each knew. Eli thrust inside of him, and it was a little too soon, but Thrawn couldn’t bring himself to care, Eli’s hands were on him, he was arching into the touch, Eli’s skin so hot on his—

“I—” Eli said, and shuddered, his orgasm stealing whatever it was he was going to say. 

Whatever it was, Thrawn thought as he followed, he agreed with it. 

 

 

 


	10. Long Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eli's last ten years.

 

 

Thrawn had been right, Eli thought drowsily, as he laid on the bed, idly staring at the ceiling. They did have time. It was a long trip through hyperspace back to the Ascendancy, a week, maybe. 

He hadn’t realized how tightly wound he’d been for...he wasn’t even sure how long.

He’d been in constant motion since he had arrived in the Ascendancy: first in the CEDF, struggling against the anti-human bias, gaining a reputation for impulsivity and near-insubordination from his fellow officers before Ar’alani had set him straight. Then he'd been given the Captaincy of the _Dark Vigilance,_ and had tried to be the commanding officer he'd always admired, which had been difficult and isolating. Then there had been the incident with the Vagaari and his injuries, and that had been followed quickly by trying to stay a step ahead of his new status. Then finally, planning with Thrass to bring their respective clans to prominence. 

The entire time, he’d had a nervous energy, a drive, a sense that time was always short. 

That was gone now, completely. He sighed and closed his eyes. He wouldn't miss the feeling. 

“Are you going to go back to sleep?” Thrawn’s voice, curious. Eli opened his eyes and saw him standing in the doorway. “Perhaps you have not truly become one of us, after all.” 

Eli groaned. “I can’t help my biology.” 

“Nor should you. But I am interested to hear your news from the last decade. You know mine,” Thrawn said, with a grimace. “Such as it is. And I would like to know why I am not returning to the Ascendancy as a criminal. I have a suspicion...I do not wish to be impertinent to a Syndic…”

Eli looked at him. Thrawn was almost always  _ impertinent _ when there was something he wanted. “What’s your suspicion?”

“You did not make this visit in an official capacity, did you?” Thrawn said. He sat on the bed, ran his hands through Eli’s hair. “Your words, in front of the Chancellor. You said you represented the Second Ruling Family and you mentioned Thrass’s status in the First, but you said nothing about the Aristocra, or the Ascendancy as a whole. And this ship is Thrass’s personal vessel, not an official part of any clan’s fleet.” 

“Yeah,” Eli said. “I should have known you’d pick up on that. I never like to  _ lie _ in these kinds of situations; I figured she’d hear what she wanted to hear. No, it’s not an officially... _ sanctioned  _ diplomatic visit—"

“Then will we not both be considered traitors by the Aristocra?” Thrawn pointed out. “You have circumvented procedure, made a clandestine visit to a potential enemy, endangered the Ascendancy’s location...”

Eli laughed, seemingly totally unconcerned. “Or, if Thrass tells it — or if I do — I acted swiftly on behalf of the Ascendancy’s best interests when no one else would, after every attempt to convince them otherwise. As we well know, the Empire employed torture--the Ascendancy couldn’t be sure that the New Republic wouldn’t be the same way--and who knew what you were giving away in prison, and obviously you wouldn’t commit the ultimate dishonor, with your reputation. So rescue was the only acceptable course of action. And while there, I planted a seed of potential allyship, urging the fledgling New Republic to find its strength in order to fight the coming threat.” 

“Eli,” Thrawn said, disbelievingly. “That is sophistry.” 

“That is  _ tactics _ ,” Eli said. “Just on a different field of battle.” 

Thrawn shook his head, but he was smiling. “I remember saying I wanted to see what my people would think of you. I did not consider the effect  _ they _ would have on  _ you _ .”

“You have to keep in mind how I got to this position, too,” Eli said. “My status is unique.” He wasn’t boasting, he meant it literally. Thrawn would understand the subtlety. 

“Your merit adoption? This is the long story, I expect.” 

“Yes,” Eli said, sighing. “When I first arrived in the Ascendancy, Ar’alani got me a position as Commander on her vessel. I was... it was that first year. I had no idea what I was doing, and there was no one like, well—”

“You did not have an Eli Vanto.”

“No,” he said. “But eventually, I figured things out. Stopped, you know,  _ throwing things. _ Made friends. Thrass introduced me to the right people...and after I toed the line for a while, they promoted me to Captain, gave me a ship of my own. The  _ Dark Vigilance _ , a small ship.  Scouting runs, mostly. I think a lot of the officers in the CEDF saw me as almost...an experiment. They wanted to see what a human would do, given certain powers. And your reputation counted for a lot. And then...the Vagaari became a threat again.” 

“We beat them back, years ago,” Thrawn said. “Before I left."

“Not far enough,” Eli said, grimly. “My ship was ferrying Kres’iget’anthi, the Kres’ Aristocra at the time, and we were attacked. She was captured — you know how they like  _ novelty _ . And...collecting things. We were able to follow and rescue her, but the Vagaari had either developed or stolen new weapons and,” he gestured at himself. 

There was a lot Eli wasn’t saying, in that pause, but Thrawn didn’t ask him to delve into it. Not now.

“That’s how I was wounded. And we were out pretty far, so they couldn’t get me into full-scale  bacta treatments as quickly as they should have,” Eli finished, grimacing at the memory. 

“The ones who did it—?” Thrawn asked, unable to keep the anger from his voice. 

“Dead,” Eli confirmed. “Their fleet was completely destroyed, because their act of kidnapping was considered a first strike. I was a...while, recovering.”

“I can imagine,” Thrawn said. His hands stilled on Eli’s skin, tightened subtly, then renewed their gentle stroking. 

Eli nodded. There was a lot more to that part of the story, but he wasn’t really ready to tell it. He would, eventually, he knew. Thrawn would be able to handle it. But not right now.  

This next part was somewhat easier to tell, if a little more convoluted. And embarrassing. Eli sighed. “And then, when I was recovered...Sigeta made me an offer of fourfold honor.”

Fourfold honor offers were the standard Chiss marriage contract, so-called because they conferred honor on both individuals and on both clans. 

“She—” Thrawn said, his voice rising dangerously. 

Eli held up a hand. “There’s more,” he said. “She had worked it out with Thrass — I’d be adopted into the Mitth’ clan, then she and I would be matched, and everyone in both clans would benefit from my heroism. I was...upset.” 

He’d been furious, actually, that he’d been used as a bargaining chip while he was in and out of bacta tanks for months. “I told Thrass about you and me, and he helped me smooth things over with the Kres’, argue  _ them _ into merit adoption, instead. I couldn’t join  _ your _ clan, if—well, you know. We figured it out eventually. And that was fine for a while. The Kres’ made it from Fifth Ruling to Fourth. People were really...interested in me, my background, what I had done.” 

The Chiss, for all their vaunted stoicism and practicality, were, Eli had come to know, still  _ people _ . They were intrigued by the mystery he represented, charmed by his heroic act...and they were also incurable gossips, obsessed with status and hierarchy. They could be xenophobic, but Eli’s dramatic human actions were the ultimate in gossip-fodder, and honor under fire was to be admired, even in an outsider like him. Thrass had been an expert in capitalizing on all of it, and eventually, Eli had become one, too. 

Eli had never seen Thrawn look so astonished. He pressed on. 

“Fourfold honor offers were coming in every day, from other clans. High-ranking ones. Sigeta was after me to take one of them. She didn’t understand why I wouldn’t at least consider them, even let someone formally court me, if only for appearance’s sake. Finally, she cracked and  _ ordered _ me to do my duty.” 

“Oath under siege,” Thrawn murmured. 

He laid down on the bed, next to Eli, and put his head on Eli’s shoulder, understanding now how difficult it must have been to keep their oath intact, on his side. You did not say  _ no _ to the head of your clan. It would have been nearly unthinkable for a Chiss. For an outsider to do it, one who had fought so hard for acceptance...Would he ever truly appreciate the depth of Eli’s loyalty to him? It had been there even from that first moment at the Academy, when Eli had looked at him and earnestly said  _ I don't dislike you,  _ and had refused to pretend otherwise to save himself the scorn of the other cadets. 

Eli nodded, voice rueful. He knew that Thrawn understood the seriousness of what he had done. “Sigeta  _ really _ wanted to move us up to Third Ruling, at least, and she saw matching me up as an opportunity for the entire clan. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. So...I told her I’d sworn  _ tiscut'san'in'ci _ . I hadn’t even mentioned that to Thrass, no one knew about...you and me. ” 

“You told her we were—” Thrawn lifted his head, genuinely surprised. He had used that term on Vria without thinking, and—

“Yes. And as it turns out, your definition of that term was  _ woefully _ incomplete,” Eli said, dryly. Thrawn chanced a look at Eli’s face, wondering if he was rightfully angry about that omission, but Eli was smiling slightly. 

Thrawn had said it was  _ a type of partnership forged between equals, under duress, a true bond of respect and attraction both _ , and Eli had read that as exclusivity, partnership. Perhaps, in the extreme, marriage. But among the Chiss, as Eli had learned, partnership or marriage was a contract between clans, not individuals, and could be terminated for cause. 

_ Tiscut'san'in'ci _ was deeper. It was until death, not to be broken, not to be tampered with, and could only be sworn between individuals, without clan input. 

“The definition was indeed...incomplete,” Thrawn said. “I am sorry. I meant it. But I did not know if you would...wish for that kind of intensity. Back then.”

“You should have told me,” Eli said, wistfully. He filed away the fact that Thrawn would have sworn something so meaningful to him without expecting the same feeling on Eli’s side. They could discuss that later. “I know we were half-frozen and concussed at the time, but I could have handled it. And I did want that kind of intensity, from you. Even then.”

“Apologies,” Thrawn said. “You are right, I should have been clear. But I am glad you felt the same...even then.” 

“Yeah,” Eli said, “Even then. Even without knowing exactly what it was we were doing, I still meant it, too. Anyway, Sigeta was  _ extremely _ apologetic, and immediately went around telling everyone exactly why I was no longer eligible…because you also didn’t mention how rare it is...”

“She did not,” Thrawn could imagine what had happened from there, and if Chiss could blush, he would have. 

“Yes, she did. She was  _ very _ proud of having part of an oath-sworn couple in  _ her _ line.  _ And _ a Trial born,  _ and _ the only human in the Ascendancy. And when it came out that my oath-sworn partner was  _ the Exile _ himself…oh, yeah, you’re pretty famous in your own right...well. People  _ loved _ it. I lost count of how many holo interviews the clan sent me on. The Kres’ basically had to make me Syndic after that. Which only raised our status  _ higher. _ ” 

“The Exile _ , _ ” Thrawn said, flatly.  _ Famous _ , he thought.  _ Famous for what accomplishment? _

“That’s what they call you. Most people think it’s very noble, what you did. The ultimate act of service to clan and country, even to the Chiss as a whole,” Eli said. He’d meant to tease Thrawn about it, but that was starting to seem like a bad idea. Maybe it wasn’t as funny as he’d thought at first. 

“Do not joke about this,” Thrawn said. He sounded almost desperate, and he had sat bolt upright, pulling away from Eli’s touch. 

“It isn’t a joke.” Eli said, quietly. “It’s true. And it’s why there won’t be a trial, or anything like that.”

“After two years in prison, after nearly twenty years of exile, I am to return to my people and be  _ celebrated _ ?” 

“You don’t sound...happy about that,” Eli said, feeling nervous for the first time since he’d started telling this story. 

“I am a  _ war criminal _ !” Thrawn shouted, and then quieted his voice. “Eli, you can call it whatever you like, you can argue whichever side you find appealing, but the facts are the same. I authorized torture, I am complicit in the deaths of cities, an entire planet—”

“What was your vote, on the use of the Death Star?” Eli interrupted. “Chancellor Mothma said there was a vote.”

“I voted against it. I had a starfighter project that would have been more efficient. It would not have targeted civilians...but it was destroyed.” 

“I thought so. You hate needless death, wastes of resources. You did right by those serving under you, which is more than I can say for the other Grand Admirals. People felt lucky to be on the  _ Chimera _ , or in the Seventh Fleet. I don’t think you are complicit. I don’t think—”

“You can think what you wish. You were not there.” Thrawn said. “I was. I know.” 

“You weren’t a criminal, you were an agent. In deep cover. What were you going to do, disagree with the Emperor? Get yourself killed? I agree with how the Chiss see you,” Eli said. “How the Imperials serving on your ships saw you. I always have. I’ve always admired you, even before...before Vria. Since the Academy. You  _ did _ willingly go into danger for your people. Alone, for all those years. You protected  _ me. _ You were—are—a good commander. You were given bad orders, and you tried to make the most of them.  _ Those _ are  _ facts _ , not tactics.” 

“I need to think about this,” Thrawn said, voice still flat. 

“Okay,” Eli said, trying to keep the hurt from his voice. “I know, it’s unexpected. A lot of things have changed —  it’s been a long time — but our oaths haven’t, at least.” 

“No,” Thrawn said. “That is true. They are the same, I am not denying you, Eli. But I still need to think.”

 

 

 

 


	11. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eli and Thrawn discuss the future.

 

 

Thrawn spent the next ship's cycle "thinking," and as difficult as it was on the tiny ship—as difficult as it was in general— Eli left him alone.   
  
Thrawn was right, Eli thought. Eli hadn't been there. He didn't know. While Eli had become a war hero—he didn't like to think of himself that way, but he couldn't deny that the position he'd gained had been because of his injuries and the dramatic turn his life had taken. He'd been showered with praise and interest (eventually), while Thrawn had struggled and failed, at least in his own eyes. He'd been on the losing side of a hard-fought war.   
  
The war between the Empire and the Rebels was a series of reports, to Eli. Thrawn had lived through it. Unlike the Chiss's war with the Vagaari, which had been a straightforward defense of the Ascendancy from an outside force, the Empire’s war was...messy. Like most things involving humans tended to be. 

It hadn't been fair of Eli to expect this to be easy. Just because he wanted it to be. They weren't the same people they'd been ten years ago, either of them.

  
But when it looked like another entire ship's cycle of "thinking" was going to pass by without comment, Eli decided to intervene.   
  
He found Thrawn on the small ship's bridge, examining the command module.   
  
"A friend requests your status," Eli said as he entered the room. "Haven't heard from you in a while."   
  
"Nominal," Thrawn said. He shot Eli a small smile at his reference to their messages. At first, receiving them had been painful, but Thrawn had come to rely on the small scraps of contact, over the years. "Our technology has come a long way in a short time. I do not even recognize what some of these consoles are for."   
  
"Well, don't take them apart and rewire them until we land," Eli said, knowing that Thrawn would be thinking about doing just that. "Then, go for it. Thrass will love it."   
  
Thrawn scoffed.   
  
"You're brooding," Eli said.    
  
"I am thinking."   
  
"Well, I'm... sorry," Eli said, hesitantly. "I should have considered what this would be like for you in more detail, but all I was thinking about was...having you back."   
  
"I, too, apologize," Thrawn said, sitting in one of the console chairs. "You have given me a very great gift. I am not disdaining it. Many gifts, actually. My life, your loyalty..."   
  
"More time," Eli pointed out. "What happened in the Empire doesn't have to be your legacy, now. We can learn from it. We can try something else. I agree with your assessment of the New Republic, somewhat. It is unstable. But maybe with time, they can grow into a stronger ally. The Chancellor is a wise person. I hope her Senators are wise, as well."   
  
"Some of them are," Thrawn said. "Possibly."   
  
"There won't be a court martial," Eli said. "But there will be an inquiry. The CEDF and the Aristocra will want to debrief you. Which might be worse, honestly, because there's no set length of time for it. It could take years."   
  
"Why do you sound so eager to convince me that things will be  _ worse _ than you said before?"   
  
"Because I don't think you're ready to believe that...maybe we can just..." Eli hesitated. "I'd like to know who you and I are, together. When we're not aide and admiral."   
  
"Or Syndic and...'Exile'?"

  
"Or that," Eli said.

“Will there be a place for me, in the Ascendancy? You have become very Chiss, but have I become too human?”

Eli was struck by that. The worry was plain in Thrawn's voice, and again, Eli hadn't even considered that a possibility. 

“Not to me,” he said. “But I might not be the one you need to hear from. I would think you'll have your choice of places. The CEDF, again; a position in your Clan; even the Aristocra.”

“Or none of them. Private citizenship.”

“Art critic,” Eli said. 

Thrawn shot him a look. 

Eli shrugged. “Why not?”

“I believe the bonded partners of Syndics are expected to perform certain social duties, as well.”

“Only if you want to,” Eli said, thinking of the two of them at some boring social function, Thrawn saying something subtle and cutting to one of his political rivals. “It would be interesting to watch.”

“I never expected to have a choice,” Thrawn said.  “You gave me that, as well.”

“You thought I could be something more than a supply officer, when you met me.”

“And I was clearly correct,” Thrawn said with satisfaction. 

“So then, maybe I'm right about you.”

"Perhaps," Thrawn said.    


  
—   


  
Having the freedom to walk even the tiny ship unheeded was unexpectedly thrilling, Thrawn thought. Eli was sleeping again ("This is my chance to catch up," he'd explained. "The other Syndics love to have meetings in the middle of the night.") so Thrawn wouldn't be accused of  _ brooding _ .    
  
Which he had been, he realized now. By the end of the war, he'd expected capture and imprisonment. He had not expected rescue. He had not expected freedom. He had certainly not expected to see Eli, ever again.    
  
And now, not only was he seeing Eli again, they could become the true partners that it had been impossible for them to be in the Empire. And Thrawn could choose even more than that. If what Eli had said about their respective statuses was true — not even to mention the change in his clan's fortunes overall...At first, he hadn’t been able to trust it, but with some time, the possibilities were beginning to seem appealing rather than overwhelming, the more he considered them.   
  
His people still needed protection, a strong ally. His original mission could be transformed. The threat that gathered in the Unknown Regions was still a factor. Eli's information on the provisional government would be a valuable resource in deciding how to handle the New Republic. He would have to carefully consider the situation, rewrite some of his reports with a view towards...   
  
Eli stirred, shifting position, and opened his eyes to see Thrawn sitting next to him in the bed. "Am I late for something?" he said, sleepily. "Or are you just keeping track of everything I do that's unChiss-like?"   
  
"I was brooding," Thrawn said gravely. "But I believe I am finished."    
  
"Good," Eli said, sitting up. "Have you reached any decisions?"   
  
"As you said, I too would like to see what it can be like between us. As equals. Without secrecy," Thrawn pulled Eli closer, before he could get up entirely. "There is nowhere to go right now. Why not stay here?" he suggested.    
  
"Good decision," Eli sighed, leaning against him. "And what else are you going to do? When we get back?"   
  
"I believe I will assess the situation and...look forward to finding out. I will make new plans."   
  
Eli smiled and Thrawn felt him relax, minutely. He realized just how concerned Eli had been about the future. Thrawn's future. Their future, together.   
  
"Any more...immediate plans?" Eli asked, voice low. He ran a finger down Thrawn’s chest, looking at him darkly. 

"Indeed," Thrawn said. "I think you will approve of them."   
  
Thrawn rolled them over, his posture instantly becoming predatory. He gripped Eli’s wrists, holding him there, and looked down at him, assessing. Eli let him do it, his muscles instantly going slack, a pulse of heat traveling straight to his cock. He threw his head back, baring his throat.    
  
As much as he liked having Thrawn under him, Eli had missed this, too.    
  
Thrawn stayed stock-still, hands pinning Eli to the bed. The Chiss’s strength was still more than a match for his own. Thrawn’s red eyes scanned him slowly, traveling down his body. Eli shivered. Thrawn smiled, slow and deadly.    
  
Eli didn’t struggle, yet, but he looked up at Thrawn, challengingly. “So, those plans?” he said, a little breathless.   
  
Thrawn didn’t respond, just took one hand away from Eli’s wrist and trailed it over his face, down his neck, over his chest, pausing at his nipple. Then lower, brushing his stomach, the curve of his hip…   
  
Eli’s breath was coming in bursts, his body at once tense and relaxed, anticipating the touch and melting into it at the same time.    
  
Thrawn’s touch skipped his cock, already hard, entirely. Eli couldn’t help it, even though he’d known what was coming -- he arched his back, twisted toward Thrawn, who reached down and held his hips fast to the bed. Thrawn’s hands were vise-like, his grip hard enough to bruise. Eli closed his eyes, feeling another shiver travel down his back.    
  
“We have time,” Thrawn said, as he had before. His voice was infuriatingly calm. “Should we not use it wisely?” His long fingers wound their way down Eli’s inner thigh, slowly stroking his skin.    
  
“Sure,” Eli gasped. “Whatever you say. Whatever you want.”    
  
“Correct,” Thrawn said, continuing the slow touch – everywhere except where Eli wanted it most.    
  
Eli opened his eyes and grinned up at him, feeling a little drunk on the sensation. He was barely thinking, now, their discussion forgotten, his world narrowed to Thrawn’s fingers trailing lightly over his skin. As their eyes met, Eli saw Thrawn’s posture stiffen for a moment, saw his sharp intake of breath, his eyes widening with the effort of controlling himself.    
  
That was an opening Eli could use. “Thrawn,” he moaned, twitching his hips again. “Please…”    
  
The red eyes flashed again, and Thrawn’s hands were back on his wrists, pulling Eli’s hands over his head, holding him there again for a long moment as Eli struggled against the grip.    
  
And then finally, Thrawn released him, and slid his hand down to grip Eli’s cock.    
  
Eli’s back arched as he thrust into the touch. This was all he had thought about for years: those cool blue fingers on him, inside of him. Even now, when it was actually happening, he could barely believe it wasn’t just another fantasy. Having had him once since they’d seen each other again was not enough.    
  
Thrawn’s mouth was on his, harsh and demanding. Eli gave into it, gasping and moaning when Thrawn nipped at the junction between Eli’s neck and jaw. Thrawn’s hands were slick with the oil, Eli hadn’t even noticed him using it, his hands strong and sure on Eli’s cock. Strong, sure, and so, so slow.    
  
“I’m starting…” Eli bit out. “I’m starting to—really hate that line about…having time.”   
  
“Hm,” Thrawn said, quirking an eyebrow at him. The fingers of his other hand were dipping inside of Eli now, shallowly. “I believe the expression in Basic is  _ turnabout is fair play _ , Eli.”    
  
“Glad to…hear you joking. I think,” Eli said, not sure whether to thrust forward into Thrawn’s hand on his cock, or backward onto his fingers, curling into his ass. “Are you…are you going to—“   
  
Thrawn took both hands away entirely, stroking himself just as slowly, letting Eli see it.   
  
Eli cursed fluidly in Cheunh.    
  
The corners of Thrawn’s mouth turned upward. “I never -- never included that expression in our language lessons,” he said, his voice uneven, breath coming fast.    
  
Eli shook his head. Thrawn had  _ stuttered _ . Eli was done talking. He could only gesture helplessly, his arms coming up to encircle Thrawn, pulling him back down on top of him. Thrawn met him in a now-desperate crush of lips, his hands resuming their slow rhythm, then picking it up, faster.    
  
When Thrawn finally, finally thrust into him, Eli  _ keened _ as he lost himself in the motion, the pleasure, the fact that this wasn’t either the last or the first time, that it didn’t have to be anything but what it was, one moment out of many.    
  
They ended up in a tangle, Eli sweaty and spent, limbs slack and languid with the aftermath. Thrawn was as disheveled as he ever got, his slightly-too-long hair in his face.    
  
Eli brushed it aside, staring at him, grinning. “I definitely approve,” he said, finally, trying to catch his breath. “Of your plans. Immediate and otherwise.”    
  
“As I said,” Thrawn murmured.    
  
He was starting to sound more like himself, already, Eli thought. And it was still a few days until they would arrive in the Ascendancy. And after that...

They did have time.    
  
  
  
  


 


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year later, on Csilla.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who’s followed along with this fic. Your thoughtful, enthusiastic, and appreciative comments and kudos have seriously brightened my days and really mean a lot to me! Come chat with me on [Tumblr](%E2%80%9Dcoldhillside.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) \-- I have no other works lined up in this ‘verse at the moment, but I respond really well to prompts. (hint hint)

 

 

**Csaplar, Csilla. Day 21, Cycle 7, Year 6451 (circa 8 ABY)**

 

 

“We should g— Oh,” Eli said. Thrawn was already wearing his uniform, heading in the opposite direction, leaving the room where he kept his unfinished works. The two of them nearly collided with each other.

Thrawn smiled at the near-contact, reaching up to smooth a wayward curl of Eli’s hair away from his face.

"Is it finished?" Eli said, closing his eyes and enjoying the casual touch. They had a few minutes before they had to leave. He wanted to sneak a glance at the piece Thrawn was working on currently, but he held back.

The inquiry into Thrawn's mission to the Empire, Eli's unregistered rescue (which, since it had been both successful and popular, the Aristocra was quick to claim as being both entirely their idea and very much officially sanctioned, thank you), and the current status of the New Republic, had not taken years, but it had taken months. During the inquiry, Thrawn's official role had been in limbo. Since he was no longer a member of the CEDF, exactly, and wasn’t assigned any clan duties, he'd pursued...hobbies.

"No," Thrawn said, absently. "This one is causing me trouble. I need time to consider it before I go back to it again."

Eli had only been half-joking when he'd suggested  _ art critic _ as a possible role for Thrawn in the Ascendancy. He shouldn't have been surprised that Thrawn would skip over criticism and begin working on art of his own. Eli admired his work: large-scale flat sculptures of various types of metal, threaded through with electronic components that carried light and heat. To a Chiss, the resulting patterns in the infrared were apparently very striking, but even in the human-visible spectrum, Thrawn's pieces were beautiful. 

"You don't have to attend this gathering if you'd rather work on it," Eli said. 

"No, there will be people there that I need to speak with."

"Yeah? Who would that be?"

Thrawn didn't answer. Some of what he was doing was classified even from Eli, but Eli was pretty sure he'd figure it out eventually. Or Thrass would, which meant Eli would hear about it anyway.

—

The Chiss's idea of a party matched up fairly well with the Coruscant galas that Eli had once been so uncomfortable attending. They were chances to vie for status, exchange favors, and, of course, gossip. That was all second nature to him now. 

As Eli chatted with Sigeta—she had never held Eli’s refusal of her offer of fourfold honor against him, they remained friends — he easily spotted Thrawn across the room, as he was wearing the uniform of attache from the Mitth’ clan to the Military Hierarchy. True Hierarchy members, like Ar'alani, gave up their Family status as a sign of service to the Chiss as a whole. The current Mitth’ Aristocra wasn't about to let that happen to one of their most high-profile members. However, the role of attache did not carry such a requirement.

The advisory status — and the uniform, Eli couldn’t help but note, black with the Mitth' clan's blue trim, and the multicolored CEDF patches on the high collar — suited Thrawn very well.

It had taken Eli longer than he would have liked to understand why Ar'alani and the other Military Hierarchy members hadn't assigned Thrawn to his current role more quickly. The third or fourth time he'd been in a Council meeting, listening to an update on the progress of their inquiry as she circled around the topic, citing "various factors beyond our control," "the difficulty of accurate communication given the distance involved," "differences of opinions of members of the Hierarchy," it had finally clicked.

They felt guilty about the way the Hierarchy's plan had fallen apart.

In their own opinion, they had failed, and the Chiss hated failure. It was a greater hindrance to them than it would have been to a human-influenced government. In their own way, they were brooding over the embarrassment and shame, like Thrawn had. It had taken months for them to repair their pride and acknowledge that they needed to try something different. 

It had only taken Thrawn two days. Eli assumed it was the influence of humans that made the difference. He had mentioned this to Thrawn, who had said, "The influence of a particular human." 

Thrawn was talking to Inro’avil'aem. Hm. The Inro’ clan was traditionally focused on technology, as the Mitth’ clan focused on military and defense matters. Taking that interaction into account with Thrawn’s work with the Hierarchy, and his earlier conversation with a few key members of the Aristocra...Eli had it. 

“I think I figured out your project,” Eli said, sidling up next to Thrawn. He would have threaded his arm through Thrawn’s, but the Chiss didn’t do casual touch in public. 

“By all means, please enlighten me,” Thrawn said, dryly. 

“You’re setting up a message relay with the New Republic,” Eli said. “Inro’avili'aem is interested in hyperspace communication, aren’t they?”

Thrawn rewarded him with his Chiss-grin. “Very astute, as always. Not just with the New Republic. There is a small faction left of the former Empire as well. We have...contacts in both. Some names I believe you would recognize. A former colleague of ours chief among them.”

“Still following her career?” Eli said with a grin. It would be good to hear from Faro again. And then, “Grand Admiral Thrawn, spymaster, huh? Who would have thought?”

“I do not think of it as spying,” Thrawn said. “Rather...tactics, on a different field of battle. And you are slipping. I thought you would have figured it out weeks ago.”

“You distract me at these things. I can barely pay attention to who you're talking to.”

“That is false,” Thrawn said. His eyes blazed red as he scanned slowly, deliberately up Eli’s body.  

“Okay, fair enough. I  _ am _ paying attention to who you're talking to. But also to you,” Eli said, meeting his gaze. 

“I know that you know that everyone here can see you in the infrared spectrum,” Thrawn said. 

“Then we’d better leave,” Eli said, voice low. “Keeper of my honor.”

 

****  
  


 


End file.
